


Stay

by Hustling_Rube93



Series: Stay [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Sex, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hustling_Rube93/pseuds/Hustling_Rube93
Summary: They had an arrangement that they were both happy with. That was it. Wasn’t it?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Series: Stay [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574908
Comments: 10
Kudos: 365





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever published fic.
> 
> I own nothing. All mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Thousands dead, towns reduced to rubble, families torn apart; the Second Wizarding War caused unprecedented devastation, but it also accelerated change. After the cleanup at the Ministry and the rest of Voldemort’s sympathisers had been weeded out, rounded up, and thrown into Azkaban, the War Trials began, overseen by the newly elected Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. 

The trials formed part of a larger attempt to root out the militaristic and prejudiced attitudes amongst the Pureblood elite that had helped to produce the war, and to help build a new world order that would prevent such a catastrophe from ever happening again. It was during the trials that Bellatrix had been acquitted of all charges by the Wizengamot on account of her considerable contribution towards the war effort during the Battle of Hogwarts.

After her exoneration, the first thing Bellatrix did was make peace with her sister, Andromeda. It didn’t happen overnight, there was more than a few nasty words exchanged (and even nastier stinging hexes), but after a few months they finally reached where they were now. Admittedly, their relationship wasn’t perfect; Bellatrix was sometimes still downright frosty and Andromeda still had that mean little vindictive streak she’d had as a child, but they seemed to have an unspoken agreement not to let their reconnection slip away any time soon.

They agreed to have tea and a gab a couple of times a week. Sometimes Narcissa joined them, and it was just like old times. And sometimes Potter would visit (he was Teddy’s Godfather Andromeda had told her) and it was during these visits that Bellatrix came face to face with Hermione Granger again. 

The last time Bellatrix had saw the young witch they’d both been less than their best. She recalled pinning Granger to the floor of her sisters parlour and carving the horrific slur into her arm in a bid to convince the Death Eaters of both her lunacy and her devotion to the Dark Lord, when all the while she was really conspiring against them. The act was a despicable one, she knew that, of course she did, and it didn’t matter how many times she tried to convince herself it had been a necessary evil at the time, merely a means to an end, seeing the girl again made her feel like a bludger had lodged itself in her throat. 

The first meeting in Andromeda’s cosy little kitchen, Granger could barely look at her, yet she sat and drank tea, and played with Teddy, and conversed with Andromeda and Potter almost as if the woman who had mutilated her wasn’t sitting three feet away from her, pretending that she didn’t exist. Bellatrix silently commended her for her bravery and thought that it was little wonder the girl had been sorted into Gryffindor, but she still winced a little, realising the trauma that she’d probably saddled her with. 

Since that first extremely stilted meeting they met several more times at Andromeda’s house. Sometimes Granger accompanied Potter when he came to visit Teddy, sometimes Bellatrix would arrive for one of their scheduled sisterly catch ups and Granger was already there for one reason or another. She questioned Andromeda about the young witch’s presence on more than one occasion and was supplied with a vague explanation about Granger needing a quiet place to study and spend time away from the rabble that was the Weasley’s ramshackle home. It was on one such occasion that Andromeda was called to work to deal with a crisis and left Teddy in Bellatrix and Granger’s capable hands. 

Or not so capable hands. Bellatrix didn’t want to admit it at the time, but she didn’t have the first clue about what she should do with a baby. She’d even had limited interaction with young Draco before she was tossed into prison, Narcissa had even joked at one point about how Bellatrix used to put his nappies on backwards and had held him at arms length as if he was something smelly. The only thing that had stopped her from Flooing Narcissa on that occasion for assistance was that Granger seemed to know what she was doing and Bellatrix was at least pleased that what was left of her dignity remained intact. 

She should’ve just left. Granger seemed more than capable to deal with Teddy on her own. But something about being alone with Granger made her pull her wits together and apologise for what she’d put her through all those months ago. Granger accepted the apology, water under the bridge she’d said, then she made them both a cup of tea and didn’t mention it again. Bellatrix tried to ignore the fact that Granger made her tea just right. Andromeda couldn’t even do that, and she’d been making her tea for months now. 

Since that first venture into babysitting, Bellatrix’s mind was plagued with thoughts of Granger. She constantly played her apology over and over in her head, trying to discern exactly what it was about their conversation that has left her so unsettled. 

It was...pleasant. Surprisingly. 

Maybe that was the problem. 

Apologies weren’t something she dished out often, even her reconciliation with Andromeda had been a bitter pill to swallow. Maybe it was the fact that the girl had accepted the apology so graciously. Maybe it was because the very thing she was apologising for was unforgivable, yet Granger forgave her anyway. 

And so, nearly every afternoon that she went to Androneda’s house, Granger was there too. They played with Teddy, they drank tea, and when Andromeda wasn’t driving the conversation, they filled the void with small talk. But over time, Bellatrix’s guilt and uneasiness around Granger started to fade. In fact, she no longer invested any energy into thinking about the horrible things she’d done to her. No, her thoughts surrounding Granger turned more towards intrigue. Pretty soon she came to enjoy Granger’s company and somewhere along the line polite conversation turned into heated debates and playful, almost flirtatious, banter. 

Midway through December, Bellatrix agreed to help Granger babysit so Andromeda could attend a Christmas night out with the girls from St.Mungo’s. 

That was the night it happened. 

The night they fucked in Andromeda’s spare bedroom. 

Granger tasted like Firewhiskey when she pulled Bellatrix in for a kiss. Bellatrix wasn’t even that drunk, not really, but she supposed fourteen years in Azkaban had lowered her tolerance for the stuff. That’s what she’d tried to tell herself anyway. But she wasn’t so drunk that she wasn’t able to acknowledge that what they were doing was an awful, terrible, monumentally stupid idea, and so she pulled away after a beat too long. Bellatrix had took a second to remind herself just exactly who was kissing her. 

Hermione Granger: war heroine, one third of the Golden Trio, brightest witch of her age. 

And yet it wasn’t quite enough to stop her from leaning back in and capturing Granger’s lips once more, because even though she just told herself it was a very bad idea, there was a little piece of her that craved to reignite the flame that had been quietly smouldering since Granger had accepted her apology. Bellatrix had been careful to tread delicately around Ganger for months, yet Granger was the one who was making the first move. She was the one to go after Bellatrix, despite their history, despite the disgusting slur carved into her flesh. And so they stumbled upstairs, all tongues and teeth and hot passion, peeling off clothes and loosening hair, and tumbled into bed. 

She surprised Bellatrix, wasn’t as shy and reserved as Bellatrix thought she would’ve been. There wasn’t even an inch of prude in her and from the very moment Bellatrix met her in Andromeda’s kitchen she always assumed that there would have been. But then she supposed spending months in a tent in the forest with two boys would smack the prude right out of anybody. Oh, yes, Granger had told her all about that! But no, she was confident and bold, and she made Bellatrix’s head spin with her clever mouth and naughty fingers. 

Bellatrix didn’t recall much else after that, but she remembered being glad, oh so glad, that Teddy had slept through the night. 

That was how it started. 

Andromeda came back early the next morning having stayed at a friend’s house, and if she’d anything to say about the fact that she’d found them curled up together in her spare bedroom, then she kept it to herself. 

She didn’t say anything either when she excused herself from lunch the next day to clean the bathroom, a task that Bellatrix was almost positive didn’t actually need done, and left them in private for twenty minutes. Just enough time for a snog and a quick fumble they came to realise, and when Andromeda returned she boiled the kettle for more tea and pretended not to notice their kiss swollen lips and mussed hair. 

In a way, it was a relief for Bellatrix, because she knew it meant that Andromeda approved, even if she never mentioned it. But her approval had always meant a lot to Bellatrix, and even more so now that they had reconciled and were on better terms.

For the next few months they sought each other out for booty calls or scheduled late night rendezvous or naughty little quickies. Andromeda found several excuses for them to babysit, which they were only too happy to do because it meant they could take full advantage of the spare bedroom, until Bellatrix told Granger she was too old to be fucking against any door that would shut and sneaking around like a horny teenager.

The first time Bellatrix invited Granger back to her place, they spent a wonderful afternoon christening every available surface they could find. After the War, Bellatrix had moved back into the old Victorian semi she had shared with her husband, and after the swift removal of any and every trace of Rodolphus Lestrange she could find, she paid some contractors Narcissa recommended to knock down a few walls and redecorate. She loved the house now and judging by the way Granger gushed over the wallpaper and the old bedroom she had turned into a small library, she clearly loved it too. 

She supposed it was inevitable that their secret relationship wouldn’t remain hidden forever, and in April, a few weeks before the first anniversary of Voldemort’s defeat, their cosy little bubble was burst when Potter found out who his friend had been spending all her time with. Bellatrix supposed the rest of her family had to have figured it out as well. It was universal knowledge that Andromeda couldn’t hold her own piss, so the fact that her youngest sister hadn’t accosted her for a tongue lashing could only have been a good thing. 

Once Granger explained the ins and outs, her friends turned out to be very supportive, more or less, even if they weren’t exactly thrilled with her choice of companion. What could they have said anyway? It had been nearly five months since they had started their...whatever it was, and they were very happy to continue to do so. 

Bellatrix didn’t say anything the first time Granger stayed over. Not that there was much time for talking anyway. They were sweaty and desperate, moving against each other as slender fingers and hungry mouths worked each other up into a frenzy. By the time they were finished, thighs shaking and chests heaving, Bellatrix didn’t have the energy to tell her to leave. 

The following night they lay facing each other, breast to breast, noses nearly touching. Bellatrix’s leg was hooked over her young witch’s hip in a bid to pull her impossibly close, and Granger’s fingers danced up and down Bellatrix’s spine. Bellatrix tried to tell herself that it was only practical that Granger stayed again while they lay for hours, giggling over nonsense and whispering sweet nothings into the darkness. 

On the third night they drank too much Elf-made wine and Granger pushed Bellatrix up against the wall. She pinned Bellatrix’s hands above her head and ruby stained lips descended on the elder witch’s neck; nipping and sucking and trailing biting kisses up the taut column of her throat. Bellatrix ripped Granger’s blouse in her haste to tug it off and by the time they stumbled upstairs to the bedroom there was a trail of clothes in their wake. 

When they were both sweaty and sated, Granger buried her face against Bellatrix’s shoulder and fell asleep. 

On the fourth night, Granger appeared through the Floo with takeaway and they sat on the floor in the sitting room in their pyjamas and ate straight out of the containers. Takeaway was something Bellatrix couldn’t believe she had been too snooty to try all these years! It was the epitome of domesticity and it filled Bellatrix’s belly with a warmness that had nothing to do with the food on the coffee table. Later, they sat on the sofa with tea, Granger’s sock clad feet rested in Bellatrix’s lap as she read and Bellatrix scribbled in a crossword book with a Muggle biro. It had gone half eleven before they realised the time. Granger made no attempt to return to Andromeda’s or the Burrow and Bellatrix didn’t suggest it. They trudged upstairs to the bedroom, hand in hand. Granger washed her face in the en suite and borrowed Bellatrix’s toothbrush then slid into bed beside her.

On the fifth night, Bellatrix cooked dinner. Granger arrived at the house tired and a little stressed, but relieved after passing her Ancient Runes exam. She walked into the kitchen to find Bellatrix barefoot and humming along to the wireless as she summoned plates from the cupboard. A delicious aroma filled the house but it was the sight of Bellatrix dancing around the kitchen that made Granger’s belly rumble. 

“Well?” Bellatrix asked as she ushered Granger into a chair at the table.

“I passed,” she beamed, and Bellatrix laughed and pressed a glass of wine into her hand to celebrate. 

A few nights later Bellatrix noticed the yellow toothbrush in the bathroom and wondered when it was put there. She didn’t comment on the fact that there were now several pairs of flannel pyjamas in the dresser and those horrid jeans Granger preferred in her wardrobe. She also didn’t draw attention to the Muggle classics that had snuck their way into the bookcase in the study either. Even Granger’s ugly cat had found a place in her home. He would claw at her furniture and leave little gifts for her (often in the form of dead pigeons, or once a frog from the pond in the garden), yet Bellatrix knew by the way he curled in her lap in the evenings or wound around her ankles in a figure eight when she came home that he approved of her. And his approval meant a lot, even if she didn’t exactly know why. 

Somehow it had went from just sex; consensual, no strings attached, adult fun, to something so much more.

It was a new undiscussed, but not unpleasant, development in their relationship. 

Somehow _Hermione _had accidentally moved in.__

Somehow the casual arrangement that had started as nothing more than a distraction from the devastation of war, had suddenly grown into something warm and comforting that had settled in Bellatrix’s chest. She ignored all the thoughts that were rolling around inside her head like a loose gobstone and tried to tell herself that it was just out of convenience that her home was slowly being filled with Hermione’s belongings. It was just until Hermione got back on her feet. Just until she passed the rest of her exams and pursued that career at the Ministry she was constantly going on about. Just until their world healed and rebuilt and returned to some semblance of normalcy where the constant threat of Death Eaters and megalomaniac dark lords wasn’t hanging over all their heads.

Bellatrix knew she would be fine on her own, but she also knew that Hermione had ruined her for anyone else. Now she knew what she’d been missing all these years and maybe, maybe what she’d always deserved? Every day Hermione told her how important she was, how loved she was, and she still couldn’t quite get her head around that. Because she had did some truly horrible things, things that Hermione didn’t even know the half of and if she did she would probably run for the hills. But she constantly reminded herself that Hermione forgave her, and if she could do that, then maybe, just maybe, others would forgive her too. 

Bellatrix loved being surrounded by Hermione’s things in her home, and Hermione’s arms in her bed. And at the end of the day, it hadn’t been such an awful, terrible, monumentally stupid idea to let Hermione kiss her. 

After all, she’d kissed her back.


End file.
